


War Never Changes, But People Do.

by Mitooshka



Series: Even Metal Tarnishes. [1]
Category: Metal Gear, Metal Gear Rising - Fandom
Genre: Comfort, Gen, M/M, perhaps the workings of something better?, slight couple if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-12 07:19:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4470278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitooshka/pseuds/Mitooshka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Raiden find themselves realizing that despite the world constantly being filled with people and those people walking in and out of their lives, in the end you're sometimes just left with each other.</p>
<p>// Set partially before and after 'The Only Thing I Know For Real'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Never Changes, But People Do.

_“What mother, with long-watching eyes  
                And white lips cold and dumb,  
                Waits with appalling patience for  
                Her darling boy to come?  
                Her boy! whose mountain grave swells up  
                But one of many a scar  
                Cut on the face of our fair land  
                By gory-handed war.”  
                                    - _ Mary Ashley Townsend, ‘A Georgia Volunteer’.  
  
 _\------------------------------_  
  
  
                Sam wakes up and he is aware of the aching in his head and the dryness in his mouth. It feels like cotton balls had been stuffed into his ears and as he tries to get up, heaviness settles over his body. There is a noticeable pain in the centre of his torso and he touches to find himself wearing a thin suit, very much unlike the metal plating he normally wore.   
  
  
            He manages to sit up and gain his equilibrium and curses under his breath when worn out muscles pull and strain to do so. His lungs feel like they had been filled with smoke and his joints are screaming in pain. The samurai holds his head and groans audibly and only then he looks around him. He’s in a building, in a room with white walls and silver instruments, wires and machines making small sounds on the sides. He doesn’t know where and how he got here and then realizes his last memories are of falling to the ground, a sharp agony in his chest.   
  
  
            He looks down again, sees the thin suit, sees the way that it bulges out and feels around only to end up wincing. He it was clear that he had been repaired and left…left to what? Wake up? Die in this desolate building?   
  
  
            Sam gets up fully, only staggering slightly and takes it as a good sign to start walking. One foot in front of the other he moves towards the door that had been left open, only to catch sighting of a case. Moving towards it, he opens it and finds his combat suit neatly put away and ready for use. It looked to be repaired as well and Sam takes the case, he figures if he’s on his own he may as well make the use of the kindness he’s received.  
  
  
            He walks out the doors, still unsure where exactly he is and where he is going but he figures any place is better. He wonders if he is still a ‘confirmed kill’ and if Desperado has been officially debauched. He wonders a lot of things and then stops, putting the case down and brushing his hair back from his eyes; if he was still off the radar it means he could do whatever.   
  
  
            Sam looks down at the case and smirks; he figures that though Raiden wasn’t partial to being friendly, he knows he still owes him for his blade and- his blade, that was the one thing that was missing. His Murasama was not by his side, making him less than any foe and so Sam sighs, putting his hands on his hips.   
  
  
            “I suppose this is a good of a time as any to temporarily retire.”  
  


* * *

  
  
            _“But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself_.”   
                                                                        - Albert Camus.  
  
                                                                       --------------------  
  
  
            Sam rested the HF blade on his shoulder as he turned to face off with Raiden, his face held in an easy smile and the sweat rolling down his cheeks. It was hot out and it was easy to feel that in his exosuit, despite everything he still felt the heat and the cold and he still had more sensory than Raiden did.   
  
  
            “Are you done Rodrigues?” Raiden growled out, the other’s lip curling slightly and his eyes flashing with challenge.   
  
  
            Sam held up his hand and shook his head, laughing, “normally bonito I would say no, but I am done for today. This sun is doing little for me, no favours that’s for sure.”   
  
  
            Raiden stopped and sheathed his own HF blade, stepping forward until he and Sam met in the middle of the clearing they were in. He shook his hand and nodded.   
  
  
            “Guess you really are getting old.” Raiden smirked.  
  
  
            “Oh ho, well menino in that case I have far more experience over you.” Sam stepped to the side and sheathed the HF blade into its place and put it on the ground, sitting down as well. He didn’t want to admit he was exhausted but he was; Raiden constantly wanted to spar, wanted to make sure his skills were up to date and Sam hardly saw the reason in it.  
  
  
            “You know, people do not forget things like war, it is a constant reminder. You wanting to fight me every moment we have free time is getting tiring, makes me thing you don’t know what you’re doing.” The Brazilian looked up as Raiden stretched out his cyborg body.   
  
  
            Raiden looked at him, sharp blue eyes watching him for a second before replying, “you may not forget war but you can forget aspects of it. I want to be ready and just because we’ve been traveling for a few months doesn’t mean the world has forgotten.”  
  
  
            “Oh no, the world never seems to forget destruction. It seems to crave it when there isn’t enough after all.” Sam chuckled, thinking about the irony of his words. He tried to count how long he and Raiden had actually been working together and he thinks it must be three months now, over a year since the deal with Armstrong. He feels better than he had before, like he had regained a sense of his humanity and he finally stood again for what he believed in; justice and getting rid of corrupt corporate fools. He sounded like a cliché action star and it made him smile at this fortunate situation; instead of being dead he was in the middle of Mexico, somewhere on the outskirts of the city.   
  
  
            Raiden came to sit beside him and Sam leaned back, resting his palms on the ground and looking up at the haze of blue sky. His brown eyes traced the clouds and he sighed, “It has been quite a while, hasn’t it?”  
  
  
            “Since what?”  
  
  
            “Since everything. We’ve been carrying on like this for quite some time, and now I’m not saying I don’t enjoy it, simply I am surprised we haven’t done anything else. Haven’t you wanted to see your family? You’re married right?” Sam asked, trying to edge on the personal question.   
  
  
            Raiden tensed up, tracing his fingers in the sandy ground.  
            “It’s better I don’t see them, they don’t need to fear for my safety and I don’t need to compromise theirs.”   
  
  
            “You miss her?” Sam asked, this time coming to turn and look at the cyborg. His white hair was brushed back, revealing the small lines that covered his face where artificial skin and real skin met. He was a mosaic of technology, a culmination of human and metal and it was fascinating to someone like Sam who was still a large portion, human.  
  
  
            “I miss her but…our relationship isn’t exactly a relationship. I know her son- _our_ son is glade to see me but…why are you wondering this anyways?” Raiden’s voice turned to a snarl and he glared at the Brazilian with sudden wariness.   
  
  
            “I am simply curious; if I had someone waiting for me back home I would try and be with them, perhaps against better judgement.” Sam offered a softer smile to the other male.  
  
  
            Raiden turned back to the ground, letting his words sink in and he shook his head after a while, “no, it isn’t right. She wanted to move on after…after everything and I walked back in. I know there are parts of our lives that are happy but…not everything. Things don’t always work out.”  
  
  
            “Si, life is not like a fairy-tale and if it was, and we could choose our own story do you think we would choose this one?” Sam gestured to the barren scape around them.  
  
  
            “You mean being in a desert practically? No, I don’t think I’d choose that either.” Raiden’s mouth turned up slightly and he looked at Sam, “what about you? Have anyone waiting?”  
  
  
            “No, and if I had they wouldn’t be waiting anymore.” Came Sam’s cryptic reply and Raiden left it at that.   
  
  
            It wasn’t that Sam didn’t want someone, it was simply the fact that he hadn’t come to actually enjoy anyone’s company. Gender for him wasn’t a thing and yet he still kept himself fairly closed off.   
  
  
            “I guess…it’s just us then.” Raid was peering down onto the ground, his swept back hair now being ruffled by the slight wind and brushing into his face. Sam smiled, taking the time to push the hair away from his eyes and tilted his head, his own hair which had spilled from its ponytail, hung around past his shoulders. They were a clear contrast of who they were; light and dark, ghost and sentinel mech and human.   
  
  
            “Si, meu parceiro, it is just us.” He murmured softly and Raiden looked at him, eyes only a fraction wider than they normally were. There was surprise and the heat in the air got heavier as Sam ruffled his hair and chuckled, “now don’t give me those eyes!”  
  
  
            “What eyes are you talking about you loud-mouth ninja! I swear all you’re good for is sharpening my blade on, and that’s on a fucking good day!” Raiden bristled.   
  
  
            The two bickered back and forth, Sam laughing and brushing off Raiden’s spiteful words and if the white haired male could get red in the face he certainly would have been. But when they both grew quiet, with only Sam leveling off the silence with a small chortle of amusement, the cyborg let himself stick his hand out.   
  
  
            “Partners?” Raiden asked his voice easy but there was a hint of uncertainty behind it.   
  
  
            Sam, taken aback by the gesture, blinked at him in quite surprise. It wasn’t like they didn’t get along all the time, they had had some good times but this was the first time Raiden had said it out loud. Sam let his shoulders sag in ease and took Raiden’s metallic hand, twining his fingers with his own. His thumb brushed over his and his mouth cracked into a pleased and soft expression as he nodded, “Meu querido, I would think nothing less.”  
  
                                   --------------------------------------  
   
  
            _“We don’t realize what a privilege it is to grow old with someone.”_  
                                                                        - Cecelia Ahern, ‘PS I Love You’.  


**Author's Note:**

> God damnit I still wish I was over these two but it honestly looks like I'm not. I know I may be writing to a dead audience but hey, even if there may be a heartbeat of life out there, that's pretty cool! Thanks for any and all kudos/comments I receive!


End file.
